


Pucker Up

by cryptic_answers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, don't be put off by the scary-body-parts-in-the-fridge trope, inspired by Three Patch Podcast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptic_answers/pseuds/cryptic_answers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a silly gift for the wonderful drinkingcocoa and all of the other amazing folks at the Three Patch Podcast.  Listen to the Extreme Crafting segment in <a href="http://www.three-patch.com/2013/09/01/episode-9-come-at-once/">Episode 9 of the Three Patch Podcast</a> and read drinkingcocoa's very mature explanation at <a href="http://drinkingcocoa.livejournal.com/419476.html">her Livejournal page</a> (there are pictures!).</p>
    </blockquote>





	Pucker Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drinkingcocoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkingcocoa/gifts).



> This is a silly gift for the wonderful drinkingcocoa and all of the other amazing folks at the Three Patch Podcast. Listen to the Extreme Crafting segment in [Episode 9 of the Three Patch Podcast](http://www.three-patch.com/2013/09/01/episode-9-come-at-once/) and read drinkingcocoa's very mature explanation at [her Livejournal page](http://drinkingcocoa.livejournal.com/419476.html) (there are pictures!).

"Sherlock?" John stood at the open refrigerator, turning a box over in his hands.

"Mmmm?" responded Sherlock from the living room.

"This says 'do not eat.' What's in it?"

"Oh, those are the anuses."

"Jesus!" John threw the box on the countertop and stepped backward. "What the fuck, Sherlock? Have you gone completely mad? You can't keep anuses in our refrigerator. And in cardboard!"

Sherlock was suddenly looming next to John. "Put them back. They'll be gone by this afternoon. And don't eat them."

"Eat them?" said John, almost squeaking. "I don't think I'll be eating anything for a good long time."

Sherlock picked up the box and placed it gently on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, which John slammed shut.

* * * *

"Don't think that making me tea is going to make up for contaminating our food," John said from the sofa later that day as Sherlock placed the kettle on the stove and turned on the heat. "I still feel ill thinking about it." He shuddered.

"It isn't for you. We're expecting a visitor."

John sat up. "Who's coming that you would put on the kettle for? Am I going to finally meet your mother?"

"No." Sherlock pulled a plate down from the cupboard and opened the refrigerator.

The sound of steady footsteps ended with a confident rap at their door. Sherlock continued his preparations in the kitchen, so John, sighing, went to answer it.

"Ah, Doctor Watson," said Mycroft, "so good to see you."

John stood holding the door, glancing into the kitchen. "Uh, Mycroft, right, come in."

"Anything the matter, doctor?" Mycroft asked as he and his umbrella entered the flat.

"Well . . . . Sherlock's making tea," John said as Mycroft perched stiffly on an armchair.

"Disturbing," nodded Mycroft. "I shall consider myself warned." He picked a piece of nonexistent lint off of his knee. "I doubt he will be eager to take the strenuous case I have for him. But Siberia is a much more appealing place than people perceive it to be." He smiled thinly at John.

Sherlock emerged gracefully from the kitchen, carrying a serving tray. He balanced it on their living room table and moved a teapot, three cups and saucers, and a plate onto the table. The plate was covered with chocolate anuses of several sizes and colors, paper doilies layered prettily beneath them.

John and Mycroft stared at them, mouths literally open, as Sherlock leaned the tray against a chair and sat on the sofa. "John, would you mind pouring the tea for us?" He looked innocently at John.

John grinned and nodded. "Certainly, I'd be delighted." John poured three cups of tea, adding sugar to Sherlock's and cream to Mycroft's and handing them to the brothers.

"Bottoms up," said Sherlock, taking a sip of his tea. John snorted. Mycroft did not.

John sat and surveyed the anuses. He selected one. "Ooh, peanut butter!" said John, nibbling on the anus in his fingers. "Would you like to try this one, Sherlock? It's a bit crunchy."

The world's only consulting detective reached over, took the rest of the peanut butter anus, and stuck it into his mouth. "I may not know everything there is to know about the solar system, but I do admire Uranus, John."

"Thank you, Sherlock," said John, deliberately not making eye contact with his flatmate. "I think I'll see how this white anus goes down."

Mycroft placed his cup and saucer back onto the table, untouched.

"Sorry there are no napkins, but I just couldn’t be arsed," said Sherlock.

John sniggered, savoring his anus. "You know, I think I have a hole new appreciation for chocolatiers after this." He licked his fingers.

Mycroft made a small sound, bent over slightly, and put his right hand to his forehead.

"John, stop eating so quickly," said Sherlock. "You're leaving me behind." He chose a dark chocolate anus and began licking it thoughtfully.

"Sherlock, you aren't making Mycroft into the butt of a joke, are you?" John said, not quite giggling.

"Certainly not, John," replied Sherlock. "I am simply hoping that he will kiss my ass. Or, rather, asses." His smirk widened considerably.

"Really, little brother, I do despair of you sometimes." Mycroft stood. "I shall see myself out." He flounced out of the flat, shutting the door rather more firmly than usual as he left.

John and Sherlock looked at each other and fell back onto the sofa, laughing.

"Apparently I won't be asked to go to Siberia," said Sherlock, catching his breath. He picked up the plate and held it out to John. "Anus?"

"Thank you, I will," replied John politely, choosing a milk chocolate anus decorated with edible glitter.

Sherlock picked up a bittersweet chocolate anus on a stick and examined it closely. "I do believe this story has a happy ending." He grinned at John and bit down hard on his anus.


End file.
